In that Blue winter
by Natto Pudding
Summary: That bright smile. The unfaltering look in his eyes. Those are the things that have saved me and yet I hoped that he wouldn't never get what he yearns for. I was selfish and wished that he would never change, even if it comes in the price of that smile I loved so much. [Mostly one-side OC/Aomine.]


He was there again today.

Laying on his back with a gravure model magazine in hand. That indifferent expression plastered on his face as usual.

It might be just my imagination. Beyond that weary look there was a longing, something that has always been reflected in those deep blue eyes.

It was almost as if he was waiting for something to happen, craving for someone.

I'm not so conceited to think that I can be the person to fulfil that yearning. It might just be my wishful thinking, but whatever he desired at that moment in time was not romance.

No, it was an even stronger passion than that.

There was a part of me that wholeheartedly hoped that he will be able to obtain what he has been yearning for. Yet at the same time, another selfish, greedy part wished that he wouldn't.

Hoisting myself up the metal ladder on the wall, his blue strands came into view. I inhaled deeply to calm my ragged breath, slightly exhausted when I finally reached the top.

"Ah. It's lace today." He commented in a low, lazy voice.

"Heh~ So Aomine-kun is the type who cares more about the style than the colour of girl's underwear." I replied nonchalantly and settled down opposite the tan basketballer, placing my tote bag down with a light thud. The contents of the bag spilled out when I failed to support it against with my leg.

"…"

The ace of our school's basketball team turned his attention away from the magazine and sat up, his gaze was now in my direction and a perplexed expression drawn on his face.

"What? Spill it out if you've got something to say." I returned his attention with a glare.

"Are you not a girl or are you just loose?"

He scratched the back his head weary as he let out a big yawn.

Sometimes I really wonder what made me I fell for this guy.

"That's so rude! How can you say that to a pure maiden! It's just because of my profession that I'm too used to people talking about underwear!" I blew up my cheeks and frowned at the rude basketballer. "And I was just thinking about lending you Horikita Mai's new photo book."

"Ah my bad, it just slipped my mind that you drew porn for a living." Of course, his expression showed no sign of remorse, but I was already too used his laid-back, straight forward attitude.

"That's doesn't count as an apology, it's an insult! Plus, the manga I draw maybe a bit to the ecchi side but it is still shonen. _SHONEN_. Not Porn!" I emphasized, crossing my arms and blowing up my cheeks, it wasn't like I really took his words to heart, it was just fun to play along.

"What's the difference anyway?" He stretched out a hand and signaled for me to pass over the promised photo book.

"I'm appealing to young pure-hearted middle and high school boys who-"

"Ah pretend that I didn't ask."

I shot him a death glare and readied the photo book as a weapon. Even when I had threw over the photo book with all the force I could muster, he still manage to catch it easily with the palms of his strong hands. As expected of the ace of the Generation of Miracles! The fangirl in me wanted to squeal out, but the more sensible parts of me managed to hold it back just in time.

Seriously, I just can't get angry at this guy.

Aomine flipped open the photo book and laid back down in his usual position, propping an arm between the cement ground and his dark blue strands, his legs crossed in a relaxed pose. I took out my sketchbook and a pencil, laying out a gravure magazine as a reference that I wouldn't be using, because my model is already laying in front of me.

I stole small glances from him as I sketched out his outline in swift pencil stroke. I wanted to capture this moment down with my own hands.

Sometimes, I feel like a little like a stalker. It was not that I trail behind him on his way home or have any half-naked pictures of him in my room, but I know so much more about him than he knows about me. Everything was so one-sided to the extent that it was pathetic.

He doesn't know that we went to the same middle school.

He doesn't know that I have watched every single one of his match since the first year of middle school.

He doesn't know that bright smile of his, the one he always had on his face when he played basketball in middle school, how many times it has saved from slumps and how it has given me the courage to pull those hard decisions in life.

But all that doesn't matter, because I am satisfied just to be by his side in little sessions like this. Even though that bright smile is now gone, I will cling onto my selfish wish that nothing will change.

* * *

It was by chance that I had met him on the rooftop on that day. I will always remember that first day of school. I had just entered high school and was already rushing to complete the rough drafts to meet my editor's deadlines. To tell the truth, the nature of my work wasn't one bit healthy for a high school girl in society's opinion, and therefore I have always kept my profession a secret, but still my editor's wrath isn't the most enjoyable situation one wished to be put through so I was forced to bring my work to school.

As expected, the rooftop was deserted during the opening ceremony. I quickly got started on my work and entered into my 100% focused mode, and I am the kind that gets completely sealed up in my own little bubble. It was already too late before I finally took notice of a certain basketballer who came after me.

"Isn't this the special issue featuring Horikita Mai?" A husky voice asked as a shadow suddenly loomed over me. Before I could even respond, a tan hand reached down beside me to grab the reference material.

A state of chaos took over my mind. I tried to calm myself down and considered the possibilities.

Is it possible that _he_ came to the same high school?

Quite possible, I heard they had tried to scout him.

Is it possible that _he_ has skipped the opening ceremony too?

Very possible, he doesn't seem like the type who could stand long, boring lectures.

Is it possible –

Before I had the time to continue, the basketballer with dark blue hair, that very person who has dominated my head for the past minute, took his seat opposite me. My eyes couldn't help but follow his every move, the way his legs crossed each other as he made himself comfortable, the way his long fingers shifted as he flipped the pages of the magazine.

He was the _real _thing.

It was Aomine in the flesh, and he was just a meter away.

I got ready to turn on my fangirl mode, but the option immediately vanished when I realised the situation I was in. Rough drafts of girls in provocative poses exposed themselves in plain view. I could feel the heat rushing to my cheeks as I quickly gathered up the pieces of paper lying on the ground. However, my actions backfired, because the distressful movements I made only attracted his attention.

"What's this?" He picked up a piece of my draft, of course I tried to get it back, but my dull movements were too slow for the basketball prodigy. Without taking his eyes off the paper, he managed to dodge all of my swiping attacks.

"You should make the boobs bigger."

"…What?"

"I said you should make the boobs bigger." He repeated nonchalantly as he casted a glance at me. "Other than that it's not too bad."

I couldn't believe my ears. He just saw a high school girl draw this kind of unhealthy stuff and his comment was that? Although I am not the most prudish girl in school, I was very sure my outer appearance leant towards the more conserved side, especially since I have taken extra care to make sure that I look proper, mostly due to guilty conscious. Plus, the things that I was drawing weren't exactly the most immaculate things one can find around, in order words, it should have been the complete opposite of my outer appearance. Yet, he had that same indifferent expression even aftering seeing my drafts.

"Isn't it weird?" I could feel my lips trembling as the words escaped me. They were words that have overflowed out of my disorganised thoughts rather than being a product of conscious thinking. My mind was overwhelmed with fear. There were flashbacks of judgmental eyes and visions of how my middle school idol will be looking at me with the same eyes any second from now. I braced myself mentally for my vision to come true, but his answer took me by surprise.

"Ah? Is there something wrong with your ears?" He held out piece of paper in my face. "Didn't I just say that it's good?"

From that point in time, I stopped believing that your heart actually beats faster when you fall in love.

It didn't happen the way shojo manga has taught me, because I swore that my heart must have stopped beating for that moment.

There in his eyes, he had that same straight, unfaltering look. He wasn't lying, he wasn't judging me. Actually, he didn't even get what I meant to ask.

It was the first time I felt that someone has accepted person I am beyond my outer appearance. Everyone, my friends, my family, and even the people at the publisher had scrutinised me with those judgmental eyes because of my work. I can't blame them because even I, myself did not wholeheartedly embrace my work.

There was suddenly something churning in my stomach and the corners of my eyes started to sting. I quickly snatched the draft from his long finger and cover my face with it.

I could feel tears welling up, but I didn't want to cry in front of him.

It took a while before I finally regained my composure, and when I turned my attention back to him, he was laying down on the cement floor, chilled by the cool spring breeze, flipping through the magazine nonchalantly again.

* * *

The summer holiday had been long and painful, I was put through a hell load of work and those were the days that passed without him. I was really relieved that when the holidays ended, he has returned to his usual spot and autumn held happy times that passed in a flash.

And there came winter. He played in winter cup and lost in the first round. It was a fierce match, one burnt deeply into my memory and also one that brought what I fear most.

It changed him.

Finally, he had gotten his hands on what he has always desired.

_Worthy rivals._

...

I laid back against the cold, hard cement floor at that tallest spot on the rooftop. It was the very spot that had been his, a spot he will no longer occupy.

The bitter winter has ruthlessly stolen the warmth from these floors, temperature that had been there in the previous season.

I should be happy for him.

But I am selfish and greedy.

I gently closed my eyes and took in a lungful of the cold winter air, I learnt that the only way to stop myself from crying was to hold my breath.

In my head, I imagined the squeaking of basketball shoes against the polished wooden floor, the tapping sounds as he dribbled the ball, how much fun he would be having fun while he dunked into the metal hoops.

Maybe he would even put on that bright smile again-

"Oi, what are doing on my spot?" A familiar husky voice asked as something suddenly blocked off the cold wind blowing in my face.

I didn't dare to open my eyes. There is a high possibility that it might just be a hallucination, or I might have just fallen asleep and was seeing a dream of him. If it was so, I wouldn't open my eyes even if an elephant was to stomp over me now. Just for a while longer, please let him be by my side.

I don't even care whether it's a mirage or an illusion. I wouldn't be greedy again, just let it continue for a while more, until I am ready to leave the cradle of this sweet dream.

"Stop acting like you are sleeping." And there came his voice again.

I felt something tugging my hair. I couldn't help but reached out to it. There, at the end, with his large warm hands. My eyes flattered open involuntarily, and staring down at me was a pair of mesmerising deep blue eyes.

My body moved by itself before my mind could even process anything. I pounced towards his warmth and buried my face into his woollen school vest.

"What are you -"

_Don't leave me, don't leave me, don't leave me. _

A voice screamed in my head but like always it was too meekly to come out. The torrents of emotions made me trembled in his arm, and the tears that welled up in my eyes formed warm, wet patches on his uniform. I felt his body shift under my weight, and a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around my shoulders.

It was confirmed at that very moment that love doesn't make my heart beat fast.

Because my heart did actually skip a beat.

"Shouldn't you be at practice?" I heard my heavily nasal voice ask, it sounded a little like I was sulking.

"I ripped the hoop off."

"Was it on purpose again?"

He didn't answer.

I was being too greedy again.

Would his answer have changed anything? If I was to get use to this warmth, I knew that I will never be able to survive without it again. Even though parts of me resisted I tried to pull myself out of his embrace, but his well-trained arms wouldn't budge.

"D?" he asked out of the blue.

"Are you talking about my cup size?" I sniffled.

"Can you get it to grow at least 2 sizes bigger?" I couldn't see the look on his face, and he couldn't see mine.

But I could feel my lips pulling into a small smile, because at that moment I felt that I could just a bit more conceited.

…

Sometimes changes aren't so bad.

* * *

Natto's notes:

Pure feelings (?) from a not very pure mind, I guess. A bit heavy for my taste, and I'm not much of an Aomine fan. None of my stories are beta-ed so I apologise for any spelling/grammatical error etc. *bows 360 degree*

I thought I can better express the unrequited love through from a first-person perspective, but it came out weird, I think. Sorry if the thoughts were confusing. I didn't even give the OC a name. (lol)

I LOVE any reviews c: not in my sugar rush mode now because I'm listening to my sad songs playlist.


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